R&I - Home
by Fenway03
Summary: Birthdays never turned out the way Jane imagined them — at least not until Maura became a regular in her life. Maybe some things do change after all?
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:**__ Alrighty, one more fic before the summer break… I guess you know the drill by now — three chapters for easier readability, but the story is already complete.  
This one takes place two weeks before my previous fic ("Breakfast With Her Shadow") and stays in the same storyverse with Jane &amp; Maura as a couple. It's basically a companion piece to that other fic, but you'll understand everything without having read the other one.  
They've never given the exact date of Jane's birthday on the show, so I took the creative liberty and decided it's in late July — because that's when all the cool kids have their birthdays. ;-)_

_As usual, the characters belong to Tess Gerritsen/TNT. The title refers to the song of the same name by Edward Sharpe &amp; the Magnetic Zeros. I'm sure you can figure out why._

_Also, thanks for all the feedback on my previous fics! Much appreciated!  
Enjoy your summer!_

* * *

_**(PART I)**_

…

And it is that day again.

That dreadful annual spectacle of phony greetings and unannounced hugs, sweaty handshakes and forced smiles, lame-ass jokes and way too much cake. Well, at least the cake part is nice. But the rest? Not so much.

At the thought of the impending play to be enacted by friends and strangers alike, Jane buries her face even deeper in her pillow and stifles a groan. Maybe, if she simply refused to open her eyes, the day would pass and no one would notice… Or she could pretend to be sick… Just take a thermometer and a lamp to fake a fever… After all, her mother always fell for it back then, so why not try that trick again now?

Except that, now, she would have to play make-believe with a doctor whose IQ was most likely twice as high as the human body temperature. Even if one added a fever.

Frustrated, Jane turns around, brushes a strand of rebellious dark hair out of her face, and squints at the other half of her bed — only to find its sheets empty and its blanket carefully pulled back.

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she props herself up on her elbows and checks her alarm. 7:05 A.M. Way too early no matter the day. In fact, it is so early that her half-closed eyes almost miss the little treat sitting on her nightstand. But when she blinks again and the blurry sight takes the shape of a cocoa-brown chocolate-chunk muffin, a broad smile spreads across her face.

Three self-indulgent bites later, the muffin is gone. And so is Jane's momentary frustration — that is, until the jangling of keys at her apartment's front door and the sound of her terrier bouncing over the wooden floor announce the return of her two closest companions. And on any of the other 364 days of the year, this would certainly make her heart jump with joy. But today, it is barely more than a timid little hop.

Cursing through her teeth, Jane crumples up the muffin paper cup, tosses it behind her nightstand, then quickly rolls onto her stomach and sprawls herself out across her side of the bed. Playing dead. Or at least semi-comatose. And hoping that wildlife's proven defense mechanism will also ward off the rather gentle predator now quietly climbing back into bed, crawling closer until Jane can feel the other woman's breath in her neck. _Just keep on pretending. It will work._

It does not work.

"If you want to pretend you're still asleep, I suggest you wipe those muffin crumbs off your mouth…"

Without opening her eyes, Jane pointedly rubs the corner of her mouth, then resumes her paralyzed state.

"Come on," Maura chuckles and places a soft kiss on her neck. "You can't stay in bed all day."

"Watch me!" Jane murmurs into her pillow.

"I will not." Unambiguously, Maura lets her lips wander over the brunette's skin, all the way from her nape to the edge of her tank top. "And I have to be in court at 10, so if you'd like to spend some time with me, you should do so now."

Reluctantly, Jane turns onto her back and grumpily squints at the woman hovering on top of her.

"Happy birthday, Jane!" Cheerfully, Maura continues her kissing on Jane's chest.

"It'll be a happy one if you promise there won't be any surprises."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Well, first of all, I'm not clairvoyant," Maura states factually in between more kisses. "So, I'm not in the position to make any definitive statements regarding the absence of any surprises from your day."

Her detective senses suddenly wide awake, Jane suspiciously eyes the blonde. "When and where?"

"Excuse me?"

"The big surprise that you got planned." Jane knowingly raises her eyebrow. "When and where will it happen?"

Spontaneously losing interest in her seductive play, Maura withdraws to the other half of the bed and innocently stares at the ceiling. "I don't know what you're talking about."

But the challenge has already been accepted. Teasingly, Jane scoots closer and runs her fingers over Maura's skin exposed by her light halterneck dress. "Are you sure? You really don't know anything about a surprise?"

Before a sudden case of urticaria can complicate her answer, Maura swats Jane's fingers away. "All I know is you should stop being so grumpy. It's your special day after all. Who knows, maybe you'll like it…"

"So, there _will be _a surprise then?"

"What?" Visibly irritated, Maura glances at the brunette. "No, I… I meant your day. Maybe you'll like your day."

"You're so busted!" Jane grins triumphantly.

"I'm just saying… It's the first year we celebrate our birthdays together — I mean, _together_-together." Pensively, Maura locks her fingers with Jane's. "Maybe things will be different from now on."

But right now, grumpiness still beats optimism. "The only difference will be that my mother won't storm into my room doing her annual parade of _Guess whose birthday it is?!_"

"Is this why you wanted to stay here last night?"

"Well, it's certainly not because of the comfortableness of my bed." Annoyed, Jane tosses and turns. "This mattress sucks… just like this whole birthday thing…"

When there is no response, she pauses and peeks at Maura, who has focused her attention back on the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," Jane whispers as she notices the disappointment in the blonde's eyes. "I promise I'll put on my best smile and endure whatever surprise you have in store."

"You will?"

"Under one condition." Playfully, Jane nudges Maura. "I want another one of those muffins!"

But even on birthdays, some wishes aren't granted easily. "There is way too much chocolate and sugar in those, and you shouldn't—"

"You haven't even tried them! Besides, you said dark chocolate was healthy."

"Yes, but not if you overdose on it."

"Well…, what are we gonna do about my sweet tooth then…? Oh! I know!" Forestalling any futile protest, Jane slides on top of Maura and teasingly smooches her cheek. "You're sweet, too."

Lips curled into an amused smile, Maura invitingly pulls her closer and wraps her into her arms and her warmth. And as they both melt into an affectionate kiss, Jane can't deny that this potential new birthday routine does have certain charms. _Maybe some things do change after all?_

But just as their kisses deepen and their hands begin to explore each other's awakening skin, a familiar voice from the apartment's front door reminds them both that some things will always stay the same.

"Jane? Are you here?"

At the sound of her mother's nosiness echoing from the walls, Jane scowls at Maura. "You gotta be kidding me?!"

And her frustration finds its match in the blonde's face. "Why didn't you take away her key?!"

"Why didn't _you _barricade up the door?!" Grumpier than ever, Jane rolls off Maura — just in time before Angela appears in the door frame.

"Oh, hello, Maura!" After a friendly wink, the Rizzoli matriarch exuberantly turns to her daughter. "Guess whose birthday it is?!"

Wishing her gun wasn't out of reach, Jane pulls her blanket over her head and whimpers into her pillow. _Yes, it is that day again._

…

Thirty gripe-filled minutes later, Jane finally stops protesting against her mother's presence — not because it has become any less annoying but simply because the plate of sweet-smelling bunny pancakes placed in front of her requires her mouth's full attention. Besides, after 38 years of practice, she is very much capable of conveying the same level of frustration with her eyes only. But as she sits at her kitchen counter and takes another maple-syrup-covered bite, she realizes that this unplanned one-on-one with her mother while Maura is still in the bathroom might actually work to her advantage.

Swallowing down another piece of pancake, Jane casually glances at the elder Rizzoli woman. "So, Maura told me everything about tonight…"

Keeping a straight face, Angela continues her breakfast preparations. "And what exactly did she tell you?"

"Well, you know, everything…"

With an interrogative calmness that would make any seasoned detective jealous, Angela locks eyes with her daughter while putting two more pancakes on a second plate. "And now you're telling _me _because…?"

"Because… I want to make sure you don't forget to be, uh… _there_ in time." Jane smiles convincingly. More or less. "And no worries, I will still act totally surprised."

Admonishingly, Angela points her pancake turner at the younger Rizzoli woman. "Eat your pancakes, Jane."

Huffing in frustration, Jane gulps down another forkful. "Come on, you know I hate surprise parties. Just tell me what I'm in for this time."

"I thought Maura has already told you everything?" Angela smirks triumphantly.

As if on cue, Maura returns from the bathroom and takes her seat at the counter. "Told you what?"

"Nothing…," Jane focuses on her pancakes.

"Jane thought we would fall for one of her interrogation techniques." Angela shakes her head in disbelief and slides that second plate of pancakes to the blonde. "She claimed you were a little chatterbox and had spilled the beans about tonight."

"Oh, did she?" With feigned disappointment, Maura picks at her breakfast.

Silently cursing herself for having gotten out of bed, Jane turns her attention to the woman at her side. "I did not call you a chatterbox!"

"No, it's okay." Maura keeps her eyes on her pancakes. "I'm aware that you think I can't keep a secret."

"Maura, I know you can keep a secret! But you don't need to prove it _today_."

"Well, maybe… maybe I can give you one little hint." Finally, Maura looks up from her plate, pauses with secret delight at the sight of the growing anticipation in the brunette's eyes, but then leans forward to whisper that little hint into her ear. "You're gonna be late for work if you don't leave soon."

Jane groans in frustration and leaps to her feet. "I hate you…"

"No, you don't," Maura chuckles victoriously.

"But I'm getting there!"

As Jane grabs her blazer and heads for the door, Maura quickly reaches for something from behind the coffee machine. "Wait!"

"What?!" As Jane turns back around, she finds herself presented with another of those chocolate-chunk muffins. And if there ever was even the slightest possibility of her hating Maura, it is definitely gone now.

"Try not to leave crumbs all over your car seat," Maura smiles and hands her a napkin as well.

"Don't worry, this one won't even make it into my car!" To prove her point, Jane takes a large bite, then thankfully kisses the blonde on her cheek. "Have fun in court!"

As Maura wordlessly wipes the chocolate lip print off her skin, she suddenly remembers something else. "Uh, Jane…? When do you think you'll be back tonight?"

"Oh, I don't know…," the brunette shrugs teasingly and gulps down another muffin bite. "Why don't you let yourself be _surprised_?!"

"Jane…"

Already halfway out of the door, Jane rolls her eyes in defeat. "My shift ends at 6. I'll get back here as fast as I can, okay?"

And that is all Maura wants to know. "Okay. I love you."

"Yeah, yeah." Without turning back around, Jane waves and stomps out of her apartment. "Bye, Ma."

As the door snaps shut, Angela and Maura exchange a look of amusement before finishing their breakfast together.

…

It takes exactly twenty-three minutes in her car, five derisively gleaming red lights, and one suicidally snarky remark from Detective Crowe for Jane's muffin-induced mood boost to vanish into thin air. And it takes just one not-quite-empty styrofoam cup of coffee hurled right into the very same Detective Crowe's face for her mood to swing back into not-quite-grumpy territory — at least for the four minutes she needs to cover the distance from BPD's main entrance to the homicide squad's premises a few floors above.

Forestalling any further wisecracks from colleagues in the hallway with her patented Rizzoli glare, she makes her way to the bullpen and finds Korsak already behind his desk, dutifully typing up a report.

"Hey, Jane!" The sergeant looks up with a fatherly smile. "Happy birthday!"

"It could turn into one if you have a nice little murder case to distract me." With a hopeful grin, Jane leans against his desk and flips through some of his paper work.

"I'm afraid you're ten minutes too late," Korsak shrugs. "Vogler just took off to handle a scene in Southie."

"Damn it!" And the grumpiness is back with full force. "What about your cases? I know you have a few open ones…"

"Yes, and I will be able to close them if I'm allowed to work without interruption." Pointedly, Korsak takes a file from Jane's hands.

But she instantly snatches another one. "Is that the new one from Tuesday?"

"Yes, it is," Korsak sighs, giving up his attempts to get any work done. "Rich old lady was found in her home. Someone pushed her down the stairs in what appears to be a burglary gone wrong — or at least that's what we're supposed to think."

"But you think it was staged?"

"I'm considering it a possibility, yes." The sergeant pulls out a few crime scene photos from the case file. "Looks like she scratched her attacker. She had blood and skin cells under her fingernails, and I'm waiting for the lab results to come back."

"I could help you interview her neighbors." Mischievously, Jane wiggles her eyebrows.

"Already done that," Korsak dashes her hopes.

"Or talk to her family?"

"She doesn't have anyone left."

"Friends? Her household help? Uh, the butler?" Unmistakable desperation resonates in her voice. "Come on, you know it's always the butler!"

"Jane…," the sergeant moans helplessly. "It's your birthday. You should be happy you don't have any open cases, so you can go home in time."

"In time for what?" Suddenly, Jane is all ears and warily squints at Korsak.

"For… whatever you need to be home for…" The unintentional suspect squirms in his seat.

But now the detective has smelled blood. "What do you know?"

"I know nothin'…"

"The sooner you tell me, the sooner you'll get me off your back, and the sooner you can continue—"

The ringing of Korsak's phone abruptly cuts off Jane's thinly veiled threat.

Relieved to be off the hook, Korsak warningly raises his finger to demand silence and answers the call. "This is Sergeant Korsak…" He listens for a moment, then smiles approvingly. "Thank you! I'll be right there."

"New case?" Jane asks hopefully.

"Nope, but they got a DNA match." Without wasting any more time, the sergeant closes all the open folders on his desk and gets up. "Looks like my case is tied to a series of B&amp;Es. I'll have to talk to the officers handling those. Excuse me." With that, he snatches Tuesday's case file from Jane's hand, grabs his jacket, and bolts out of the door.

"But…," Jane protests at his empty chair. In vain.

With a frustrated pout, she drags her feet to her desk and plops down in her own chair, spins around for half a minute, then begrudgingly decides to tackle the pile of paper work waiting next to her computer.

And as the hours pass and she finishes report after report — dealing with a late-night robbery and shooting at a Roxbury 7-Eleven, with a middle-aged woman stabbed by her jealousy-driven ex-husband, and with a case of voluntary manslaughter in an escalated bullying feud —, Jane's thoughts inevitably develop a life of their own, and her hand begins to doodle on a piece of scratch paper instead of signing her name under the next set of interrogation protocols.

_What if this is all there really is? Murders and crime scenes and bringing peace to those who have died too soon? _Sure, she loves her job — the thrill and the chases and the satisfying sound of handcuffs snapping shut around the felon's wrists. But when all is said and done, there are no winners in this sport. The game is already lost as soon as the victim's lifeless body hits the ground. And all she can do is try her best to delay the next match. But at what price? _Is it really worth it? Does anybody really care when the good guys lose one of their own?_

Gloom fills her heart as her eyes fall on Frost's action figure that has been standing guard next to her computer ever since they had begun to allow other detectives to use his empty desk. He is sorely missed by his colleagues, family, and friends. _But did anybody on the outside really notice the difference he made? What if he had chosen another path in life? A path that might have led to love and to his own family, and not to his sudden and untimely death? _

_How do you know that the path you're on will lead you home, and not further and further away?_

Absentmindedly, Jane rubs the scars on the back of her hands. Physical manifestations of everything she has sacrificed herself in this game. Battlefield injuries that no one is allowed to touch.

No one but Maura.

Even in the beginning, when her well-manicured fingers only accidentally brushed against the scars, it felt natural and soothing, and it ignited a burning desire for more. And now this gesture has become intentional, often accompanied by soft kisses and whispered words of affection. And it is the one thing that Jane would never want to miss in her life. _Maybe this is it then? Maybe this is the right path after all?_

Without an immediate answer but with increasingly itchy scars, Jane decisively closes the folder in front of her and tosses it back onto its pile, grabs her blazer, and gets up to head out for a spontaneous lunch with a certain medical examiner. Two can play that game of _Surprise!_

On her way out of the bullpen, she casts one last glance back at Frost's action figure on her desk, as if to ask for permission to leave by herself. But she knows he would approve. _He always did._


	2. Chapter 2

_**(PART II)**_

…

At ten minutes to noon, Jane is impatiently pacing the quiet hallway in the courthouse and sullenly remembers why they agreed not to meet for lunch in light of Maura's unclear schedule. Three testimonials in one day. And on a Friday at that! _As if the whole city was trying to overcompensate for the Red Sox' miserable season with a sudden burst of productivity. Stupid Red Sox! _

When her stomach announces its equally petulant mood with a grumbling growl, Jane frowns at her watch, then at the still closed courtroom doors and at a monotonously buzzing vending machine at the end of the hallway. _What an awesome birthday lunch._

Fishing for some loose change in her pocket, she marches to the machine and inserts one coin after another before choosing a rather dubiously looking granola bar from the limited selection of snacks. And just as the bar is leaving its slot with the speed of a glacial moraine, the courtroom doors open and the murmuring crowd pours into freedom. _Of course. _

With a stifled groan, Jane finally retrieves the bar from the machine, then rushes back to the courtroom when she spots familiar honey blonde hair leaving towards the other end of the hallway.

A few moments of pushing and shoving later, she finally catches up, but just as she is right behind Maura, she notices the phone in her hand pressed to her ear.

"Yes, I would appreciate that…," Maura politely thanks whoever is at the other end of the line. "No, I don't think she does — we'll have to rely on your excellent taste… Yes… Yes, I'll be there around 5… Alright, thank you. Bye-bye."

Once she is sure the phone call is over, Jane jumps in front of Maura. "You'll be where around 5?"

The blonde stops dead in her tracks. "What are you doing here?!"

"Uh, I'm happy to see you, too."

Her initial surprise turning into a warm smile, Maura appeasingly kisses her on the cheek. "I thought you didn't want to come."

"I changed my mind," Jane shrugs as they stroll towards the exit.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah…"

"Are you sure?" Visibly concerned, Maura scrutinizes the brunette.

"Uh huh," she confirms without looking up. "I just thought it would be nice to have lunch together… because it's my birthday and all that…"

Knowingly, Maura tugs at Jane's arm and holds her back, waits until their eyes meet. "What's wrong, Jane?"

For a moment, she uneasily shifts from one foot to the other but then admits, "I kept thinking about Frost… and that he'll never celebrate another birthday… No more cake, no more blowing out the candles… just… nothing…"

Maura nods quietly. They have already talked about it so often before that nothing needs to be said anymore. And all they can do now is wait and hope that time will proverbially heal their wounds. Or at least make them hurt a little less. Swallowing down her own worries, Maura reaches for Jane's hand. "There's a quiet little café about a block away from here… If we hurry, we can make it before I have to leave for my next appointment."

"Okay…," Jane nods as the soft touch of Maura's thumb stroking her skin eases her troubled mind. "Sounds good."

Without further words, they leave the building together, still holding hands and simply enjoying each other's company as the warm summer sun tickles their skin.

Until Jane remembers a certain mystery that still needs to be solved. "Where did you say you have to be around 5?"

"I didn't say anything," Maura smiles, thankful for the change of mood.

A few steps later, the detective can't fight her instincts and tries again. "Oh, by the way, Korsak asks why you didn't invite him…"

Maura chuckles with amusement. "Give it up, Jane."

Resigning herself to her unknown birthday fate, Jane sighs. "Does your little café at least have muffins?"

"I know they have some very tasty tofu muffins that you could—"

"Never mind."

…

The noise from honking cars and stuttering engines of crowded buses crawling through the streets during the afternoon rush hour is heard through the open windows of BPD's sticky homicide squad room as Jane is once again stuck behind her desk. Having handled most of her paper work, she has turned her attention to her computer and to an introductory slideshow presentation about the latest techniques in analyzing bloodstain and spatter evidence, intended to prepare her for an evening workshop scheduled for the coming week.

But as she apathetically browses through bloody Rorschach lookalikes, her mind sneakily reassigns its investigative resources to the still unsolved birthday puzzle. And despite her best attempts to make Maura confess during a spontaneous interrogation over lunch, she is still without a clue.

_It's probably gonna be dinner at some fancy-schmancy restaurant… with too many people jumping out from behind some artsy-fartsy decorations and yelling "Surprise!"… And the whole evening will be dull enough to end it in a snoozy-woozy catatonic state…_ Not that she would mind enduring any and all of that if it made Maura happy. In fact, she would voluntarily overdose on tofu muffins and quinoa cake if it brought a smile to the blonde's face. But is it too much to ask that maybe just once her birthday could turn out the way she imagined it? _Just a comfy couch, a pizza and beer, and maybe a movie or two… That's all it would take…_

"Hey, Rizzoli!" Lieutenant Cavanaugh suddenly rips her from her thoughts and cheerfully raps on her desk. "Just wanted to take a minute to wish you a happy birthday."

"Thank you, sir," she murmurs as he shakes her hand.

"And since you're always doin' a good job, I thought I'd do you a little favor in return."

New hope filling her veins, Jane perks her head up. "Please, tell me you got a new case for me!"

"No, to the contrary," Cavanaugh smiles, oblivious to the detective's actual needs. "You deserve a break, so I made a few changes to today's roster. For the rest of your shift, you're only on call in case of emergencies, but you can go home."

"What?! No!" And crushed is her hope. "Did Maura tell you to do this?"

"Doctor Isles doesn't even work for us." The lieutenant frowns in confusion. "She has no authority over how I decide to assign my people."

"Yeah, sounds like something she would say…" Frustrated, Jane sinks back into her chair.

Ignoring her pout, Cavanaugh shakes his head and pats her on the shoulder. "Just go home, Rizzoli. Enjoy your night!"

Without giving her a chance to protest any further, he dashes out of the squad room.

Then maybe she would just have to organize a new homicide case herself. Create a fake crime scene with the help of Rondo and his gang… Just a little ploy that would keep her busy for the rest of the day… Heck, she would even commit a _real_ homicide if it meant she could escape her pesky evening duties. _Desperate times call for desperate measures!_

Moments later, when Jane has found unexpected joy in plotting the demise of one Detective Crowe, another potential opportunity to busy herself arrives in the form of Korsak, who returns with a stack of case files in his arms and tiredly plops down in his seat.

Launching her swivel chair with a kick of her feet, she whooshes to his desk and grins. "So, how's your rich-old-lady case coming along?"

"I got side-tracked by another case," the sergeant sighs and stares at the files in front of him. "Looks like it's gonna be a long night."

"Then let me help! I'm going crazy if I have to do two more hours of paper work!" Pleadingly, Jane puts on her most innocent smile. "And I'm sure your puppies can't wait for you to get home — unless you have to be somewhere else tonight… like, at a surprise party…?"

Too exhausted to offer further resistance, Korsak searches for his case's main file. "Will you promise to stop bugging me about your surprise party if I let you help me with my case?"

Instead of a response, Jane grins even broader and pushes her chair next to his.

"Just so we're clear," he warns sternly, "it's still _my_ case. You're only providing a second opinion."

"Of course." The brunette nods contentedly and grabs one of the files. "So, what are we looking at?"

When the sergeant finally finds the correct folder with all the details on the break-in at the rich old lady's house, he pulls out several crime scene photos. "The DNA from the blood and skin cells that we found under Mrs. Thornton's fingernails matches the DNA that we found in several B&amp;Es all over town. In all cases except for this last one, the home owners were on vacation or on a business trip or similar. Mrs. Thornton was supposed to visit an old college acquaintance but got sick and postponed her trip for two days."

"So, she was home unexpectedly and surprised our burglar…?" Getting into a groove, Jane flips through the photos. "They had a fight, and she ended up dead…"

"Yup," Korsak nods. "But the DNA match didn't give us any ID, so we need to check all these other cases and figure out if there's a connection. The burglar obviously knew when to strike."

"Okay, so we're looking for, what, a travel agent? The mailman?"

Pointedly, Korsak pushes the stack of folders to her half of his desk. "You tell me."

Jane sighs at the sight.

"Hey, you wanted in on this," Korsak reminds her rather gleefully.

"But let's not forget that it's still _your_ case," the brunette retorts but then resolutely cracks her knuckles. "Nah, come on, I'm just kidding. Let's do this."

Without wasting any more time, they each pick one of the B&amp;E files and start their search for that decisive clue that could reveal the burglar's identity.

And they search and search. And then they search a little more.

After an hour has passed, the pile of reviewed files has visibly grown in size, and only a handful of unchecked cases remain. But so far, their missing link is still missing — the break-ins happened in different parts of town; the victims used different travel agents or booked their trips online; their children don't go to the same school; their homes aren't served by the same parcel service or food delivery trucks. There simply is no connection.

Rubbing her eyes, Jane leans back and tries to focus her thoughts. Once again, she flips through the file detailing Mrs. Thornton's untimely demise. Absentmindedly, she scans the crime scene photos, but suddenly, she frowns at the sight of a feeding bowl in the background. "Why didn't her dog bark or attack the burglar?"

"Huh?" Korsak leans over to see what she is looking at. "Oh. No, the dog wasn't there. Thornton had already given him to—"

And then the realization hits him, and then her, and they both eagerly check all the other files.

"Boston Red Paws — Veterinary Practice &amp; Pet Hotel," Korsak announces after skimming Thornton's file.

Jane flips through more records and photos. "Got another one here. Dog stayed at the same pet hotel when the break-in happened three weeks ago."

The sergeant's face momentarily darkens as he studies another file. "Hmm, might be a coincidence after all — this family here doesn't have a dog." But then he turns the page, and another piece of the puzzle appears. "No, wait, they have a cat!"

"And let me guess," Jane smirks. "Their kitty stayed with that vet."

"Only one way to find out." Korsak reaches for his phone. "You keep checking the other files…"

Sensing the imminent resolution of their case, Jane nods and continues her task while Korsak makes the first call to verify their newly found clues.

Twenty minutes later, they have a list with all the names of the victims and their pets — and a check mark at the end of each line confirms that the veterinary practice and pet hotel run by Richard Gleeson, DVM is the link that connects them all.

"Alright, time to have a talk with that vet," Korsak announces and gets up. "Thank you for your help!"

"Wait, what?!" Jane leaps to her feet. "I'm coming with you!"

"Jane, it's half past 5," the sergeant objects. "Your shift is almost over and I can handle this arrest alone."

"If it hadn't been for me, you'd still be trying to figure out _whom_ to arrest." Desperate to end her shift on a more exiting note — and, coincidentally, to delay her inevitable return to her apartment —, Jane boldly blocks her superior's way. "Come on, I earned this. Besides, someone needs to make sure you actually do _your job _instead of getting on first-name terms with all the puppies and furry whatnots at that place."

Indecisively, Korsak checks his watch. "Maura will kill me if I don't return you in time."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure she won't get away with it." When the sergeant still hesitates, Jane growls impatiently. "You can either argue for another thirty minutes, or we'll get this over with and be back by the end of my shift."

"We don't even know yet whether it's the vet or one of his staff members — we'll never make it back in time."

"Tick-tock, Korsak."

Eventually, he shrugs in defeat. "Alright, alright. Come on."

On their way out, Jane teasingly nudges Korsak's arm. "By the way, you forgot to tell me, why exactly do you need to return me in time?"

But judging by the sergeant's heavy sigh, she won't get an answer any time soon.

…

Fifteen minutes later, they arrive at the vet's Dorchester practice with its associated pet store and pet hotel all in the same two-story building. Another patrol car stops right behind Jane's sedan, and two officers get out to watch the main entrance and the surrounding premises.

Once inside, Jane and Korsak find themselves in a well-lit lobby with a stone-tiled floor, several plants, and a large birdcage with half a dozen budgies chirping cheerfully and showing little interest in their new visitors. Beyond the lobby, the interior is split into two sections — a spacious store area with pet supplies, fish tanks, hamster wheels, and more to the left, and a reception area with several doors leading to the vet's offices and to the adjacent pet hotel on the right.

Despite his undeniable interest in the colorfully feathered budgies, Korsak heads straight for the reception and clears his throat to get the attention of the elderly lady doing a crossword puzzle behind the counter. When she finally looks up and notices him as well as Jane and the patrol officer standing guard near the door, she frowns. "How can I help you?"

"I'm Sergeant Korsak. This is Detective Rizzoli. We'd like to speak to Doctor Gleeson."

A little irritated, the receptionist puts down her puzzle. "May I ask what this is about?"

"We'd rather discuss it with Doctor Gleeson himself," Korsak explains politely.

"I'll see if I can find him…" Nodding insecurely, the elderly lady slowly scurries away and disappears into the vet's practice.

"I guess we can rule her out," Jane comments dryly.

"Well, Thornton must have left quite a scratch mark on the burglar's skin," Korsak reminds her of the evidence found under the victim's fingernails. "Keep an eye out for that."

While they're waiting, two store customers carrying heavy bags of dog food leave the building, and another middle-aged woman enters with a Golden Retriever following faithfully on a leash. She struts straight to the empty reception, picks a form and a pen from the counter, and nods at her dog. "Sit, Barney!"

While the lady fills out her form, the dog shyly looks around, his tongue sticking out between his teeth. And inevitably, Korsak can't hold back any longer and bends down to run his hand through the dog's golden fur. "Look at you! What a good boy!"

Rolling her eyes, Jane whips out her cell phone and sends off a quick text to Maura.

_stuck at a scene with Korsak… will let you know when we're done here… _

While Korsak is still busy, the elderly receptionist returns with the doctor following right on her heels.

When Jane notices the two of them, she subtly pokes the sergeant in the ribs. "Korsak…" But he is still spell-bound by the panting dog. "Geez, Korsak!"

A much stronger punch finally secures his attention. "Oww! What— oh!"

"I'm Doctor Gleeson," the gray-haired man in black scrubs introduces himself and shakes Korsak's hand. "How may I help you?"

"Sergeant Korsak, Detective Rizzoli." He pulls out a picture of Thornton. "We'd like to talk to you about Laurel Thornton and her dog."

"Oh, yes, we've heard about what happened to her." The vet shakes his head. "That's so tragic. Do you need help with her dog?"

"Not exactly," Korsak denies. "In fact, this isn't just about Mrs. Thornton's dog but about several other guests of your pet hotel as well."

Gleeson squints in confusion, then glances at the woman impatiently drumming her fingers on the reception counter. "I'm… uh… Why don't I deal with Mrs. Robertson here, and then you'll have my full attention?"

"We'd appreciate if you could make it quick," Jane forestalls any further delays.

The doctor nods and rushes to his customer.

"Didn't see any scratches on him," Jane whispers to Korsak.

"Nope… Guess we'll have to talk to his staff, too. I told you we wouldn't make it back in time."

"Yeah, whatever. Don't sweat it…" Bored by the lack of action that has been so symptomatic of her day, Jane casually strolls to the store. "I'm gonna take a look around…"

Without waiting for the sergeant's permission, she enters this separate area, scours the different aisles for any store clerks and inconspicuously checks their faces for any visible scratch marks — in vain.

As she passes litter boxes, scratching posts, and a whole shelf with books on how to get along with your cat, her phone buzzes in her hand. Still keeping an eye on the store, she quickly reads Maura's response.

_Why am I not surprised that you are conveniently "stuck at a scene" right before the end of your shift today?_

Grimacing at the apparent inadequacy of her own alibi, Jane sends her defense.

_hey, not my fault that the bad guys don't work 9-5… but i promise i'll bring it up when we arrest them… gotta go… love ya :-)_

That will do. That should do. Convincing herself that her actions were clearly justified, Jane wanders to the back of the store. But for reasons beyond her immediate grasp, she can't shake the subtle feeling of guilt that is suddenly taking hold of her mind. _Feeling guilty about wanting some fun on that one damn special day in the year? Really?! _After a mental facepalm about her own ludicrousness, she decides that she should maybe look for some tortoise toys on her way out. A small bribe just in case… _Not that it would be necessary… but really, just in case…_ And after all, what is the worst that could happen? Maura never ever throwing her another surprise party again? _Well… that would be a manageable loss…_

But she will definitely look for those tortoise toys. Just in case…

As she is about to return to the lobby, she spots a whole section dedicated to parrots around a corner near the personnel exit in the back of the store. Smirking mischievously, Jane approaches a large cage with a reserved African Grey, peeks over her shoulder to make sure she is alone, then taps her fingers against the metal bars.

"Yo, repeat after me!" She leans closer to the parrot, trying not to attract the attention of anybody else in the store. "Yankees suck!" After getting nothing but inarticulate croaking in response, she tries again. "Yankees suck! Yankees suck!" But the gray bird just hops back and forth on its perch. Impatiently, Jane glares at the creature. "Okay, how about this: Jane loves Maura. Can you say that? Jane loves Maura. Come on, repeat after me: Ja-ne lo-ves Mau-ra."

But just as the bird is beginning to make sounds that come close to Jane's prompt, a door nearby swings open, and a thirty-something store assistant appears, carrying a heavy bag of dog food in each hand.

And then he spots Jane and the badge on her belt — and she spots him and the fresh scratch mark on his cheek. And they both frown. They both know what is going to happen next.

Abruptly, the assistant tosses his two bags into Jane's direction and bolts back out of the door.

"Korsak! Over here!" With no time to wait for his answer, Jane runs after the assistant.

And she chases him.

Through a narrow maze of numerous shelves with pet store supplies.

To the left.

Then to the right.

Then to the left again.

Never letting his curly brown hair out of her sight.

Then through another door.

And another.

Into the veterinary practice.

Down a dimly lit hallway lined with cages.

Cages full of pets of all sizes. They screech and they hiss and they bark as Jane and her prey run by.

And the distance between them is dwindling away.

Jane is getting closer.

Much closer.

Forcing the young man into desperation.

Into another tiled treatment room.

He topples a chair to the ground.

And a tray of medical instruments.

Into Jane's way.

But she doesn't fall.

Instead she leaps forward.

And she tackles him. And they both go down.

They wrestle. They roll on the stone-cold tiles.

Until Jane manages to get on top and throws her weight onto his back.

Out of breath, she presses her knee into his ribs, points her gun into his face, and jerks back his arm. "Don't move, asshole!"

Panting and wheezing, and intimidated by her gun, the store assistant gives up his fight and moans into the floor.

And with a satisfying click, a pair of handcuffs snap shut.

Just moments later, Korsak, the patrol officer, and the utterly confused vet storm into the room.

"Got him!" Jane gasps out as she gets up. "Wanna bet that his DNA matches the one we found in… in… uh…" Suddenly, she teeters backwards, searching for something to hold on to, squinting and loosening the grip on her gun.

"Jane? Are you alright?" Worriedly, Korsak steps closer.

"I'm… no, it's… I'm feeling… weird…"

"What is— oh, boy!" The sergeant points at her leg.

And Jane looks down and notices the syringe stuck in her thigh. "Uh oh…"

Just three racing heartbeats later, Jane drops her weapon and collapses in Korsak's arms. And everything goes dark.


	3. Chapter 3

_**(PART III)**_

…

The smell is familiar.

A stinging melange of antiseptics, human body odors, and cold-washed linen sheets pulls her olfactory sense back into reality. And little by little, the rest of her body escapes from the darkness as well.

Voices from afar reach her ears. A cool stream of air from a nearby fan breezes over her skin.

And then someone takes her hand and brushes over her scar. But it is definitely not the soft touch she would normally allow and enjoy. And then something pinches her skin.

Instinctively, Jane pulls away her hand and forces her eyes open — and finds herself face-to-face with a middle-aged, dark-skinned woman in purple scrubs. "Who the hell are you?!"

"I'm Nurse Robbins, and you're in the hospital," the woman explains calmly and reclaims Jane's hand to remove an IV line still attached to her vein. "You had an unplanned encounter with a syringe full of ketamine. But don't worry, you'll be fine. It'll just take a while to wear off. We've already given you something to suppress the hallucinogenic effects, but you may still feel a little nauseous for the next few hours."

Trying to process the string of information, and fighting her stomach's attempts to reverse its digestive flow, Jane moans into her pillow and lets the nurse work on her hand. But suddenly, her memory wakes from its slumber as well, and panic grips her mind. "Wait, what time is it?!"

Nurse Robbins checks her watch. "Shortly past 9."

"What? Crap! I need to make a phone call and—"

"You need to rest for a while," the nurse pushes her back into the sheets.

"No, it's… important…" Jane squints drowsily. "I have to call Maura."

"I don't think you do."

"Yeah, I do. I—"

Forestalling any further discussion, the nurse steps aside to reveal Maura sitting in a chair at the other end of the room, arms crossed and looking more than just a little miffed.

Tiredly, Jane puts on her most disarming smile, the one she has reserved exclusively for screw-ups like this. "Hey…"

"Hey yourself." Maura doesn't smile. Not at all.

Without any intentions to spend her Friday night in a war zone like this, Nurse Robbins prepares to retreat. "Uh, I'm gonna give you two some privacy…"

"No, no, stay here or she's gonna kill me," Jane begs, her speech still slightly slurred. "And she knows how to make it look like an accident."

"Well, in this case, I wouldn't want to be a witness…" With a helpless shrug, the nurse rushes out of the room.

And for a few moments, the room falls silent as Maura is staring at a random spot on the floor, and Jane is waiting for the walls to stop spinning. Carefully, she props herself up on her arm, searching for a way to break the ice. "Uh… surpriiise!" But her feeble attempt to play it cool doesn't elicit any reaction. "No…?"

Eventually, Maura looks up, and the indignation in her face is gradually giving way to the vulnerability beneath. "Do you have any idea what it felt like…? One minute you're texting me that you're at a crime scene with Sergeant Korsak, and the next minute he is calling to inform me that they're taking you to the hospital?"

"Well, if it helps, I really feel like crap… literally and figuratively."

"Why would that help?!"

Jane sinks into her pillow. "I don't know… I'm sorry…"

After another wordless minute, Maura finally speaks up. "Was it at least worth it?"

"What?"

"Sergeant Korsak told me about your continued attempts to join his case." Maura's face is more reserved again. "Now, was all of this worth it? Just so you would not have to celebrate your birthday?"

Still impaired by the ketamine's residual effects, Jane rubs her eyes. "My vision is a little weird… Can you come over here?"

But the blonde doesn't move. "No, I'm fine right here, thank you."

"Geez, Maura!" Frustrated by the course of events and by pretty much everything about this day, Jane heaves herself up.

"What are you doing?" Despite her best attempts, Maura can't hide the concern from her voice.

"What do you think I'm doing?! If you won't come here, I'll have to get over there!" But it is easier said than done. Especially with wobbly knees and a currently non-existent sense of balance.

"Jane! You're not supposed to get up already." Maura springs to her feet and reaches Jane's side just in time to prevent her from tumbling to the ground.

Eyes closed and waiting for her blood circulation to stabilize, Jane leans against the bed. "And you're not supposed to be mad at me on my birthday."

"Which you don't want to spend with me anyway…" As soon as she is sure that Jane won't lose her balance again, Maura leans against the bed as well but pointedly keeps her distance and averts her eyes.

"Of course, I want to spend it with you…," Jane murmurs and hangs her head in defeat. "Just not with everybody else at my surprise party…"

"There is no surprise party."

"Come on, I know there is. You can stop it with the secrecy."

With all her plans having fallen through already, Maura sighs and steps in front of the brunette. "Jane, look at me." She takes her hands and waits for her to look up. "There is no surprise party."

And the lack of hives on the blonde's skin only adds to Jane's momentary confusion. "But… what's with all the sidestepping when I asked you about it?"

"You did not ask about a surprise _party_ but whether or not there was going to be a _surprise_."

"Uh, can we _not_ do your word games right now? My brain is still trying to figure out what's real…"

"Well, you kept asking whether there was going to be a surprise. And of course, I wanted to do something special." Maura absentmindedly runs her fingers over the brunette's hands. "But there was never going to be any surprise _party_."

"There wasn't?"

"No. I know you don't like those parties, so I made sure everybody else was busy or appropriately compensated." Disappointment written over her face, Maura recalls her plan. Everything would have worked so well. "Your mother and the lieutenant are currently dining with Chef Maurice. Tommy and Lydia are enjoying a night out of town thanks to a full-service babysitting arrangement. And Sergeant Korsak should be assured his dogs' affection for the next few weeks thanks to an assortment of new toys and treats."

And this time, the gentle touch of Maura's fingers does not suffice to stop the sadness and guilt filling Jane's heart. "Sounds like you thought of everything…"

"Well, apparently I did not," Maura concedes at the realization that she overlooked one decisive factor — the one who is drowsily leaning against the hospital bed right now. "Oh, and don't tell Frankie. I had to convince Lieutenant Cavanaugh to assign him to the night shift because I couldn't find anything else to do for him."

"Yeah, Frankie needs to get a life," Jane chuckles feebly, but then her thoughts return to the evening that ended before it even began. "And you had something planned just for us?"

"Well, nothing fancy. Just us on your couch… with your favorite pizza and some wine and maybe some other surprise…"

"Would have been awesome…"

"I thought so, too."

Remorsefully, Jane looks at the blonde. "I told you birthdays never turn out the way I imagine them…"

Seeing the honest regret in Jane's eyes, Maura smiles forgivingly. "And whose fault is that this time?"

"Mine…," the brunette admits and hangs her head.

"Come here." Discarding the remains of her disappointment, Maura pulls her into her arms. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Hmm…" Jane lets the warmth of their embrace revive her tired bones. "I'm sorry about the little hospital scare…"

"I'm glad you're okay," Maura whispers and softly kisses Jane's cheek.

And for a while, they simply lean against the bed, holding each other tight, letting their nearness wash away any guilt and thoughts of failed dinner plans.

"You know, my birthday isn't over yet," Jane finally pipes up. "We could still move this date to my couch…"

"No, you should lie down again." Apparently, Maura's physician's instincts make it a little harder for her to sense the suggestive tone in Jane's voice. "Your body is still processing all that ketamine."

"It's not that bad…"

"They could have tranquilized a horse with that dosage, Jane!"

"Well, look at the bright side." Jane pulls out of their embrace and smirks at the blonde. "You won't fall out of bed again when you're riding me tonight."

"I did not fall!" Maura protests indignantly at the memory of the little mishap. "You pushed me!"

"Yeah, but only because you didn't tell me what you were about to do."

"Because I thought it would be more effective if I simply showed you. How was I supposed to know how ticklish you are down there?"

"Well, now that you know, you're welcome to try again tonight." Another suggestive smirk. But again, it does not lead to the desired result. "Come on, can you please get me outta here and show me your other surprise?"

But Maura still hesitates at the sight of the brunette's exhausted appearance.

"Here, feel my pulse. I'm fine." Jane eagerly offers her wrist to prove her point. "Besides, you're a doctor, so if there's a problem, you can handle it. I mean, you know my body better than those white coats in here anyway…"

"That is probably true…" Maura's cheeks flush with a delicate pink at the subtle implication.

"See? Let's go then!"

"Promise you'll take it slow?"

"Okee dokee."

And Maura knows that there is no point in arguing any further. Heaving a sigh, she surrenders and helps Jane to her feet. "Fine. But only because it's your birthday."

Despite Jane's considerable difficulties to pick up her blazer from a chair, let alone to walk straight without Maura's help, they somehow make it out of the room. When the numbness in her legs gradually begins to fade away, Jane teasingly nudges the blonde. "So… can I drive…?"

An unambiguous glare from Maura instantly puts the question to rest.

…

A few minutes before 10, they finally arrive back at Jane's apartment.

But whereas Maura effortlessly sashays ahead and fishes her key out of her purse to unlock the door, Jane is still dragging herself up the stairs, wearily putting one foot in front of the other.

"Have they added three flights of stairs since I left this morning?" Wheezing from the exertion, Jane finally reaches her destination.

"I told you. You should have lied down a little longer…" Smiling sympathetically, Maura holds the door open and guides her inside, making sure that she doesn't trip over Jo Friday, who is instantly bouncing around their feet.

"Huh…," Jane gasps as she enters her empty apartment and notices the arrangement of candles, some chocolates, and an expensively looking bottle of red wine on her coffee table. "There really was no party…"

Maura sighs instead of a response.

"Sorry…," the brunette offers once again and mentally scolds herself for not even having bought those tortoise toys as a symbolic redress.

But Maura has long forgiven her anyway and gently strokes the small of her back on her way to the open-plan kitchen. "How about you get changed while I reheat your pizza?"

Obviously, any suggestion that includes Jane's favorite food definitely finds her approval. "Okay, but if I'm not back in ten minutes, I've probably fallen asleep in the shower. So… I'd appreciate if you could stop by and save me from drowning."

"After what you did tonight?" Playfully feigning disinterest, Maura begins her food preparations. "I'll have to think about that…"

With a guilty grimace, Jane slouches her shoulders and disappears towards her bedroom.

Nine and a half minutes later, she returns, dressed in casual clothes and looking as refreshed as possible given the circumstances. Following the smell of hot pepperoni pizza, she makes her way to the couch and plunks herself down next to Maura, who is just about to open the wine and almost drops the bottle when the brunette boisterously makes herself comfortable between the cushions.

Patiently, Maura waits until Jane's attention is consumed by the still steaming pizza so she can finish pouring them two glasses of the exquisite blend of Cabernet-Sauvignon and Merlot that she picked up at her preferred wine shop on her way home.

And finally, once they have clinked glasses and leaned back with a slice of hot pizza in their hands while Jo Friday is contentedly snoozing in her dog basket, their evening is spoiled with a sense of perfection after all — except that it is a few hours later than originally planned.

Too tired for small-talk, Jane gulps down her pizza and quickly snatches another slice. It's not that she doesn't want to share her food, but having grown up with two brothers, a stressful day like this ending with an empty stomach automatically triggers long-forgotten instincts. _Survival of the fittest and all that…_

Having grown accustomed to Jane's dinner habits, and thankfully being a rather restrained eater herself, Maura watches with amusement how the brunette soon reaches for her third slice.

"What?" Jane mumbles with her mouth full when she realizes the blonde's scrutiny.

"Nothing," Maura smiles but then grabs a second slice herself. Just in case she won't get another chance…

And indeed, a few minutes later, all that is left is an empty pizza plate with just a few lonely crumbs.

Trying to ignore the last slice of pizza disappearing in Maura's mouth, Jane leans back and teasingly runs her fingers up and down the blonde's sun-tanned arm while waiting with rarely displayed restraint for her to finish her food. But as soon as she is done, Jane sits up with child-like anticipation filling her face.

"So, where's my gift?"

Surprised, Maura peeks at her from the side. "What gift?"

"Come on, you said you had another surprise, and I know you wouldn't miss this opportunity to do some shopping…"

"But you said you don't want any gifts because you already have me."

"Well…, yeah…" Even though the sentiment still holds true, this isn't the answer Jane expected to hear. "But I wasn't being literal!"

"And how am I supposed to know that?" Unimpressed, Maura reaches for her wine and takes a delightful sip.

"Because you… well… you should know these things by now."

"Or you could simply stop talking in riddles all the time." Keeping her eyes on her glass, Maura tastes the wine once more. "This one is good. Have some more."

"Hmm…" Deciding to drown her dashed hopes, Jane follows the suggestion and pours herself more wine. "So, you really didn't buy me any gift?"

"I did not buy you any gift," Maura confirms without hesitation. When she notices the brunette's disappointed pout, she scoots closer with a warm smile. "But you still have me…"

And as so often before, that dimpled look of affection is the kryptonite to Jane's grumpy resistance. After a moment of completely pointless hesitation, Jane calmly puts down her glass but then suddenly jerks back around and wraps the blonde in her arms before she has any chance to escape.

Relishing in Maura's surprised laughter, Jane lies down on her back, pulling Maura with her, and teasingly smooches her neck. "Well, if you're my gift, I'm allowed to unwrap you!"

"Wait…," Maura objects feebly as the brunette's fingers search her back for the zipper of her dress.

"My birthday is almost over," Jane argues in between placing more kisses on the blonde's shoulder. "There's no reason to wait any longer."

"What if I do have another gift for you?"

"Don't care," Jane murmurs and pulls Maura closer. "I changed my mind. I don't want anything else…" And indeed, other birthday gifts are the last thing on Jane's mind as her mouth wanders up Maura's neck, fleetingly brushes her chin, and finds a welcoming home on her lips.

And as they're both melting into the kiss, with their hands gently caressing the goose-bumped skin on each other's upper arms, the stress and the sorrows of the past few hours fade into oblivion. And even though the day is almost over, it feels as if they could own it forever.

Most reluctantly, however, Maura eventually breaks from their kiss. "Maybe you should at least take a look at your gift…" Despite the brunette's protest, Maura manages to slip off the couch and pads to a row of bookshelves at the other end of the room.

Utterly displeased about the interruption of their play, Jane stares at the ceiling. "I thought you didn't get me anything?!"

"I said I did not _buy_ you anything," Maura corrects her as she retrieves the gift hidden on the uppermost shelf.

"You and your word games!" Jane rolls her eyes as she understands. "And you blame _me_ of talking in riddles?!"

Moments later, Maura sits back down on the couch and hands her a small wrapped package about the size of a pizza carton, but considerably heavier.

Jane squints in suspicion as she accepts her gift. "What's this?"

"Just something I thought you might like…"

With growing curiosity, Jane unwraps the mysterious item — and looks rather confused at the five-sided slab of whitened rubber with some dirt stains and sneaker prints on its upper surface. "Uh… it's… a home plate?"

"Yes, but it's not just _any_ home plate." Maura smiles as she gets another blank stare from the brunette. "It's the one from Fenway Park."

It would be an understatement to say that Jane's eyes widen in awe. "Are you kidding me?!"

"I wouldn't dare."

"But… you can't just… I mean… how…?"

"I have my ways," Maura winks mischievously.

"No, seriously," Jane insists, still in disbelief. "How did you get that?!"

"Let's just say there is an ongoing homicide investigation that requires thorough comparison testing of the specific molecular structures of the polymeric composition of home plates used in ballparks throughout the city."

"Uh… I'm not sure what you just said, but it sounds like you'd be covered in hives after half of that sentence if you were talking to Fenway's groundskeepers."

"Well, my attempt to convince the nice gentlemen at Fenway of the validity of my arguments might have included the prophylactic administering of an appropriate dosage of diphenhydramine as well as several trips to the ballpark's restrooms." Maura shifts rather uneasily at the memory of her mission. "Which, by the way, are surprisingly well sanitized, given the amount of people who—"

The remainder of her sentence is cut off when Jane leans forward and captures Maura's lips in an affectionate kiss. And once again, everything around them is temporarily forgotten.

But this time, it is Jane who pulls back first. "So… in other words, you lied for me."

"I suppose I did…"

"I like that…"

As she recognizes the prankish sparkle in the brunette's eyes, Maura frowns. "Please, don't make me do it again."

"Too late," Jane grins. "You've just set a precedent for all my future birthdays."

Secretly wishing she had opted for the standard chocolate-and-flowers gift, Maura whimpers into another kiss.

And despite her growing desire for the warmth of Maura's lips, Jane pulls back again and lets her fingers slide over the precious plate in her lap. "And I can really keep it?"

"Yes," Maura confirms. "Although… maybe we shouldn't attend any games for a few weeks."

"Well, it's a good thing the Sox have already blown this season."

"You really like it?"

"Yeah…" As Jane carefully peels off the remaining gift wrap to admire the plate from all angles, a card drops into her lap. She turns it around and is greeted by Maura's fine handwriting.

_Because you make me feel like home.  
Love,  
Maura_

When Jane doesn't look up, Maura nervously wrings her hands, wondering whether it is maybe a tad too much. "I know it's clichéd and—"

"It's perfect," Jane reassures her but still keeps her eyes down.

"It is?"

"Uh huh."

As she scoots closer, Maura can't help but notice that Jane is swallowing hard. "Wait, are you crying?"

"No!" The brunette's firm objection comes a little too fast. "It's just… some side-effect from all that ketamine, I guess…"

A victorious smile spreads across Maura's face. "I finally made you cry!"

"You make it sound like it's a competition…"

"Isn't it?"

"Only if I'm winning." Giving up her attempts to hide it, Jane looks up, and her eyes are a little watery indeed.

Still basking in her victory, Maura slings her arms around the brunette's neck. "Too bad. Looks like you lost this time."

After another passionate kiss, Jane pensively looks at the blonde. "Nah, I think we both won."

And for a moment, Maura is visibly moved — until she notices that prankish sparkle in Jane's eyes again. "Oh, no! See! Now you're trying to make _me_ cry! You just can't lose!"

"Eh, whatever," Jane smirks away Maura's indignation and pulls her closer. "If I'm not mistaken, I still have another gift to unwrap…"

But as she focuses on Maura and brings their bodies together, the home plate slides off her lap — and lands right on Jane's toes on the floor.

"Oww!" The sudden yelp is followed by a blended assortment of swear words as Jane is clutching her foot in pain.

Biting her lip in empathy mixed with mild amusement, Maura soothingly strokes the brunette's arm. "Just remember, pain is only in the mind…"

"Nope, definitely in my toe!" Rocking back and forth, Jane stifles a groan. "Is it broken?"

"Let me see," Maura reaches for her foot.

"No, not my stupid toe — your gift."

"Oh." Maura peeks over the edge of the couch to check the plate lying on the floor. "No, it's fine."

"Okay, good…" Relieved, Jane sinks back into the cushions, waits for the pain in her pinky toe to subside. "Do you see why I hate birthdays?"

"You still hate them?" Insecurely, Maura massages the brunette's foot, trying to make it a little better.

And as she feels the gentle touch of the blonde's fingers and sees the warmth and affection in her eyes, Jane inevitably reconsiders her stance. "Nah… I think I could get used to them…" To make sure that her message is understood, she encloses Maura's hands in her own and places a soft kiss on her lips. "Thank you…," she whispers when their eyes meet.

"You're welcome," Maura purrs back and caresses Jane's chin before breathing another chaste kiss on her lips. "Bedroom?"

"Yeah…"

"I'm just going to lock up and turn off the lights."

"Okay…" Careful to avoid another mishap, Jane picks up her plate and the card, cradles both items in her arms, and smiles to herself as she trudges to her bedroom.

Verifying its visibility from all corners of her bedroom, Jane positions Fenway Park's home plate on top of a chest of drawers, places Maura's card within reach on her nightstand, then flops down onto her bed. And her wrinkled sheets have never felt so comfortable…

Three minutes later, Maura appears in the door frame — and pauses when she finds Jane sprawled out over the bed and snoozing with her face buried into her pillow.

Quietly chuckling at the sight, she dims the light in the bedroom, tiptoes across the floor, and carefully crawls onto her half of the bed.

Pulled from her slumber as the blonde covers them both with a blanket, Jane stirs and squints. "I was just resting my eyes…"

"No, you were not." Maura softly kisses her cheek. "How about we just go to sleep? You had a long day, and we still have the whole weekend…"

"Hmm…" Too tired to protest, Jane settles into the warmth of Maura's arms. "I promise I'll make up for it…"

"I'm sure you will." Locking her fingers with the brunette's, Maura closes her eyes.

"You know what?" Jane murmurs into the dark.

"What?"

"This birthday sucked a little less…"

Her lips curling into a smile, Maura breathes a kiss onto her forehead. "Good night, Jane… I love you."

"Love ya, too, Maura…"

And as their breathing gradually aligns and they drift into a peaceful sleep, Jane knows that she shares the sentiment revealed in Maura's card. And she doesn't worry any longer where her path might lead her. Because in the warm embrace of Maura's arms, she has already found home.


End file.
